


i'll put you on the map, i'll cure you of disease

by whymylife (nabringa)



Series: When Your Father Turns To Stone [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is a Saint, Batman is still pouting about it, Domestic Fluff, Family Dinners, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Healing, Jason Todd Kills Joker (DCU), Jason Todd Needs A Hug, POV Alfred Pennyworth, Red Hood is slowly taking over Gotham, and he gets more than one, he's getting there at least, no that is not a spoiler that is the opening line of this fic, that is basically this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nabringa/pseuds/whymylife
Summary: Alfred sits in his kitchen with a cup of earl grey close at hand and opens the morning paper, dawn light seeping through the curtains and spreading like butter and marmalade over the black and white pages.He reads the headline.Alfred closes the paper, puts his head in his hands, and weeps.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Everyone, Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd
Series: When Your Father Turns To Stone [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036254
Comments: 17
Kudos: 227





	i'll put you on the map, i'll cure you of disease

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a few months after the ending of HoG. 
> 
> Title comes from the song 'House of Gold' by Twenty One Pilots.

_The news hits almost as soon as the police arrive at the warehouse._

_The Joker is dead._

_With bullets in the head and chest, there isn’t much for the cops to do besides call the coroner and clean up the crime scene. Evidence is gathered and a case is opened, even though there is little doubt as to who put down the Clown like the dog he was._

***

Alfred sits in his kitchen with a cup of earl grey close at hand and opens the morning paper, dawn light seeping through the curtains and spreading like butter and marmalade over the black and white pages.

He reads the headline.

Alfred closes the paper, puts his head in his hands, and weeps.

After a few minutes he sits up, pulls out a fresh handkerchief to wipe his eyes, and throws the paper into the recycling bin. Picking up his teacup, he walks out the front door and sits on the porch to sip slowly and saver the sun.

He has a phone call to make. Several, actually. But this first call has been waiting for nearly a decade and can stand to wait another half hour.

***

_A month after the last sighting of Batman, Red Hood began a slow creep out of his old territory and into the rest of Gotham. Even from the outside citizens could tell he was on better terms now with the remaining bats and birds. He was spotted working with Rook at the docks, and teaming up with Sylph and Spoiler in the Bowery. There are even blurry pictures of Red Hood sitting atop a Bludhaven apartment building circulating on the web-- Nightwing’s arm slung casually around his shoulder._

_With the help of the other vigilantes Red Hood took control of Gotham, mercilessly wiping out human trafficking rings and illegal weapons dealers and ruthlessly imposing his own rules on the drug trade and sex industry. All homeless shelters and soup kitchens within the city limits found themselves under his protection, the police agreed to cooperate with him after Nightwing and Rook vouched for him, and the various mob families and gangs that lurked in the city shadows suddenly found themselves amenable to negotiations._

_The Bat disappeared, and the Red Hood stepped up to fill his shoes._

***

Jason agrees to visit in the afternoon, and when he arrives just before three o’clock Alfred meets him in the foyer and wraps his arms tight around him and holds him for a long while. Jason is stiff at first, still unused to hugs from his formerly etiquette obsessed Butler, but he relaxes after a few seconds and rests his head on his grandfather’s shoulder.

Both breath deep and slow in the stillness.

Alfred is the first to pull away, reaching up to cup Jason’s face in hands that are no longer gloved and smile a smile that is no longer a mask, more warmth escaping than his previous contract allowed.

Even here and now there is wariness in Jason’s eyes-- the fear of condemnation and rejection burned so deep into his soul the scars will never fade, breaking Alfred’s heart every time he glimpses them-- but his body language is open, relaxed in a way Alfred has never seen it. Regret and grief and those lingering fears pass over Jason’s face by turns, but when he finally offers Alfred a smile in return it holds nothing but peace.

Alfred sighs and pats the lad’s cheek gently, and ushers him into the kitchen where an assortment of recipe books are stacked neatly on the table.

***

Richard and Damian arrived at the yellow house at half past three o’clock, and as soon as he laid eyes on Jason where he stood in Alfred’s kitchen, intently paging through a recipe book, Richard burst into tears. Damian lingered awkwardly in the doorway as his guardian wrapped Jason in a hug not unlike Alfred’s. With minimal eye rolling, Jason put the book down and hugged his older brother back, rocking slowly in place as Richard sobbed and mumbled apologies into his chest. Glancing up, Jason reached out towards Damian, beckoning him closer.

The younger boy hesitated briefly, before crossing the distance in three firm strides and leaning into Jason’s side. One arm came down from Richard’s shoulder to rest on Damian’s, and all three brothers stood in the middle of the kitchen like that, Jason’s half smile marking him as the most composed by far.

With a sigh, Richard pulled away and wiped his eyes. Damian tried to step out from under Jason’s arm, but his much bigger brother simply pulled him in closer for a proper hug, laughing and ruffling the squirming teen’s hair.

Before violence could break out in his clean kitchen, Alfred cleared his throat and glanced meaningfully at the open recipe books scattered across the counters. With a huff, Damian pulled away properly and reached for an older magazine with an assortment of salads on the front. Richard flopped onto a stool at the center island and pulled a thick, hardcover book towards himself titled ‘Guide to International Desserts’. Jason leaned back against a counter with Alfred’s first edition copy of ‘Mastering the Art of French Cooking’ in hand, his eyes much brighter than they’d been before the interruption.

***

_The Red Hood didn’t kill. Not anymore._

_There were deaths attributed to injuries he inflicted, yes. But few mourned the men who’s actions afforded them special attention from the Red Hood._

_Whether the change came from working more closely with the rest of Gotham’s vigilantes or from Red Hood’s own evolving moral code, nobody knew. What soon became apparent was that without lethal violence at his disposal, Red Hood intended to take control of the city through fear and loyalty._

_As the people of Crime Alley could attest to, if you cooperated with Red Hood-- if you agreed to his terms and put yourself or your organization under his protection-- he would take care of you. If he counted you as one of his own, you were safe._

_Those who would not accept the deal he offered or tried to go behind his back did not stay in business._

_The only group the Red Hood could neither protect nor control, were the Rogues._

***

The others arrived in ones and twos as they got off work.

First Duke, walking sedately up the stairs to leave his bag in his room before tiptoeing down to the kitchen, ever wary of Alfred’s wrath against those who dared to run in his hallways. Next came Timothy, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his suit jacket as he walked through the door. Stephanie arrived shortly after with Barbara and a box of chocolate chip cookies in tow, tying her loose hair up in a ponytail before reaching for a breakfast food magazine. Cassandra was the last, appearing in the kitchen silent as a shadow, making her way straight to Jason and pulling his shoulders down to hug his neck and kiss his cheek.

By five o’clock all eight of his grandchildren were gathered in the kitchen. The recipe books were carefully put away, and a shopping list painstakingly assembled.

Duke volunteered to do the grocery run, and brought Damian along to help carry the bags. The rest of the children set about shuffling through Alfred’s pantry for the ingredients he kept in stock.

Alfred himself took out his good china and embroidered tablecloth and set the dining room table for nine.

***

Duke and Damian arrived back home just after six o’clock, arms hung with cheap plastic grocery bags. The other children had the kitchen prepped and divested the youngest boys of their bags as soon as they crossed the threshold.

Now for the fun.

Barbara had taken the time to write up what needed to be started first and what needed the oven and what needed the stove and for how long, and Alfred was more than happy to let her direct his kitchen.

Jason carefully showed Timothy and Damian the correct way to chop onions and garlic and chilies while Cassandra helped Stephanie measure out dry ingredients for cornbread. Duke started opening cans of beans and tomatoes, and Richard turned on the stove and dumped a package of ground beef into a skillet.

After making sure everyone else knew what they were doing, Alfred and Barbara found some open counter space and began the construction of a chocolate cake.

***

_With Batman missing the Rogues either settled or schemed. Those whose primary goal had been to antagonize Batman bunked down in their cells to pout, while those who simply wanted to sew chaos and terror saw an opportunity they could not miss._

_The first two Arkham breakouts were handled excellently, even without Batman and Robin there to assist. All the escapees were returned to prison within forty-eight hours, and there were no civilian or GCPD casualties. The only major injuries were suffered when Nightwing failed to properly dodge a hit from Bane during the first breakout and ended up with three broken ribs, and when Spoiler got caught in Ivy’s vines during the second and sprained both her wrists._

_It was the third breakout, over a year after Batman’s disappearance, that ended in disaster._

***

An hour later chocolate cake and cornbread are cooling side by side on the counter, and hotdogs are frying and rice is steaming and two kinds of chili are bubbling on the stove.

Richard and Timothy fill small serving bowls with chopped onions and chives and sour cream and freshly shredded cheese. Damian opens a large bag of corn chips, Cassandra fills the water glasses, and Jason plates the cornbread. Alfred himself transfers the contents of the stovetop pots and pans to serving dishes, Stephanie carefully carrying each one to the dining room table.

At seven-thirty pm on the dot Alfred sits at the head of his table in his yellow house, surrounded by his grandchildren, and says a simple grace.

Dishes are passed around. Nobody teases Damian for eating chili over rice, or Jason for serving himself three hotdogs right off the bat. Cassandra and Duke put every kind of topping over their chili, and Stephanie and Timothy eat their bowls plain. Richard and Barbara wait until everyone else is eating before serving themselves, handing toppings back and forth.

Alfred takes a small bowl of vegetarian chili and a slice of cornbread, and smiles.

***

After chocolate cake and neapolitan ice cream, the children worked together to clear the table. One by one they packed up their leftovers of choice, hugged Alfred, and said their goodbyes-- some heading out for patrol and some for an early night in.

By nine o’clock Jason was the only one left, standing at the sink and stacking dirty bowls. Alfred finished covering the cake and wiping down the counters before joining him, offering to dry.

They do the dishes in easy silence, Jason humming under his breath and Alfred reaching out periodically to pat his shoulder. Leaving the last few glasses to air dry, Alfred puts on the kettle and finds two mugs and the honey jar. Chamomile for himself and raspberry for Jason. They move out to the porch, Jason sitting on the steps and Alfred in his chair. The sun set thirty minutes ago, and the moon is just becoming visible over the neighbor’s house. Sunny day summer heat rises off the sidewalk and settles over them both like a blanket.

They sip their tea slow and still, and listen to the sound of distant traffic mingling with the last lingering lines of cicada song.

Taking a final swig out of his mug, Jason sets it down on the top stair and meanders up and down the sidewalk, head tilted back to search for stars. He’ll find precious few in the city, Alfred knows, but trying is a habit and a comfort all the same.

Toeing the clump of dandelions next to the porch steps, Jason looks back down and meets Alfred’s gaze.

Over the years the green in his eyes has faded to teal, and now they look at Alfred with undisguised relief and gratitude-- guard down and heart beating loud and clear, maybe not happy but also not sad-- and Alfred feels his heart break all over again for this precious child. This boy who was a man too soon, who was born twice over into hunger and pain and anger, who has grown beyond all expectations in body and mind and influence. Who has faced death and worse than death with courage tempered by compassion. Who has loved and lost tenfold and yet is still willing to love again.

Alfred’s heart breaks, and he brushes a tear out of his eye before standing and pulling Jason into another hug, this one steady and strong and a bit like a deep breath and a bit like a sigh. Jason is the one to pull away this time, taking a few quick steps across the porch to open the front door and grab his tupperware of chili from the side table where he’d placed it earlier. Turning, Jason makes his way down the stairs and to the sidewalk, pausing to wave in the soft glow of the streetlight, smile glinting gold.

Broad shoulders back and chin tilted up to search for stars, Jason sauntered down the cracked concrete and in and out of pools of nightlight sunshine, til he disappeared around the corner.

***

_They say third time’s the charm._

_The Joker went to ground immediately upon his escape. Two weeks after the rest of the Rogues had been tracked down and rounded up the Clown was still unaccounted for._

_His siblings set up a rotation so that Jason was never alone. There was someone to patrol with him, to stay the night at his apartment, to attend meetings and run errands with him. He spent a great deal of time at the Clock Tower._

_Two weeks after the Joker was last seen disappearing around a corner in Crime Alley, Jason slipped a mild sedative into Stephanie’s drink._

_When she woke up six hours later, Jason was long gone and resolutely out of contact._

_The whole family was on the alert for the next twenty-four hours, scouring the city for a twisted smile or a gleaming helmet, knowing the longer it took for them to find either the greater the chance they would be found together. Oracle and Rook maned communications, everyone else searched in pairs. Amusement Mile was turned inside out, every hackable camera in the city was hacked at least once, all of Red Hood’s bases and safehouses were methodically checked off a list._

_Nightwing and Sylph arrived at the warehouse six minutes before the police._

***

Alfred doesn’t go inside right away. He collects Jason’s mug from the step and places both empty mugs on the side table just inside the door. He returns to his seat.

The city was far from quiet, but Alfred had adjusted to the noise. It was so different to Wayne Manor, where the stifling hallways emptied into one echoing room after another and the outdoors was static, framed frozen by antique blown glass windows.

Alfred did not miss washing those windows.

Movement on the rooftop across the street drew his eyes, and--

The Bat, silhouetted against the moon, stared down at him.

Alfred stared back.

After a long moment, Batman turned away and disappeared around the gable with a flick of his cape.

Breathing deep to calm his racing heart, Alfred leans back in his chair. He’s going to have to make more phone calls before he goes to bed. Maybe ask Richard to keep Damian inside for the next few days. Maybe ask Barbara to check his security system again in the morning. She and Timothy updated it regularly, but another thorough maintenance check wouldn’t go amiss.

Above all, he needs to alert his grandchildren to the return of the Bat.

These children carried sunlight in their hearts and souls and blood and bones. Bruce had kept them so long in the dark, taught them to wield the shadows and wear them like armor, but hadn’t managed to stuff out their light. Once out of the reach of the Dark Knight their dawn broke fully, and they learned and laughed and loved for a season in peace.

Alfred would be damned if he let the knight taint that bright and shining joy once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I like writing in snippets, and this took me months to get around to but was so satisfying to complete. Despite the ending I have no plans for a direct sequel, but I may or may not be drafting a drabble collection that takes place in this universe. 
> 
> What can I say, Alfred being a good grandpa and all his grandkids being far away from current dc canon Bruce is my favorite thing.


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